I Know
by shadowhunter167
Summary: I was so screwed. "Woah! Sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going." Obviously. No one goes anywhere near the outcast. Clace ONESHOT


**Hi! This is something a wrote for a prompt from Broken_Dream07 on Wattpad. I thought I'd post it here and see if anyone likes it I guess.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own TMI, or any of the characters**

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 **~I Know~**

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 _"Nobody likes you."_

 _"Why are you even still here?"_

 _"Ugh, did you see her today? Why does she even go out in public?"_

 _"I might feel sorry for her...if I didn't hate her."_

 _"She thinks she's so important just because her parents died. She's such a pathetic little orphan."_

The last one stung the most and I felt tears prick my eyes. I walked faster, keeping my head down and letting my bright red curls curtain my face. I just needed to survive a few more hours, and then I could go home. Well, to the house I was now forced to occupy, with people I didn't even know.

The insults were a regular thing. Not just a daily thing, something that happened maybe once from that one group of 'mean girls'. No, the insults came all the time, from everyone.

My parents had been in a car accident just two months ago. There had been a truck driving on the other side of the road. My father swerved to miss it, and the car flipping over and over. I had been in the car, too. The only difference was that I had survived. My parents hadn't been so lucky. They didn't even make it to the hospital. They died almost immediately; they wouldn't even have lived long enough to actually feel the pain, the doctors said. I disagreed. I could still hear the screams.

Thinking about it still gave me the nauseous, terrified feeling

Now I was living with some foster family, with harsh, cruel parents and bratty children. The brattiness I was used to–it had been something I'd been accustomed to my whole life.

I had always gotten the insults, but after my parents' passing, they had gotten even worse, and more frequent. They were _everywhere_.

I had no friends to support me, or stand up for me. No one wanted to be friends with the outcast, the one person that everyone else seemed to despise. Sure, I got sympathetic glances and apologetic smiles, but no one besides parents had ever said one nice thing to me. Now they weren't around to give me even that anymore.

I was so caught up in my depressing, self-pitying thoughts that I didn't notice the person ahead of me, and I walked right into them. My eyes immediately found a toned chest and biceps followed by broad shoulders, covered with a black tee and leather jacket, and I immediately froze.

I was so screwed.

"Woah! Sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going."

 _Obviously. No one goes anywhere near the outcast_.

I looked up to see concerned, molten gold eyes and a halo of blonde hair. It needed a trim at the top, as it was now ending in slight curls and a stray few were falling to his eyes. His skin was tanned and smooth, his features angular with prominent cheekbones. Jace Herondale.

 _Gods he was beautiful._

"That's okay," I squeaked. "It was my fault! I'm—I'm sorry!"

I made a move to dash past him but his hand latched onto my wrist, pulling me back gently. Did he not realize who I was?

"Clary, wait, are you okay? Why are you running away?"

 _Ha, that rhymed_.

My jaw dropped and I looked up at him with wide eyes. He recognized me. He knew who he was talking to, and he's doing it anyway.

"Why," I breathed, "why are you talking to me?"

He gaze down at me in confusion before his lips parted in understanding and he nodded. His hand wrapped around my upper arm and he began to walk to the entrance, tugging me gently after him.

I followed without resistance, knowing if I did it would most likely result in new bruises. But his grip on my arm was loose—almost gentle—and he wasn't pulling me exactly, but rather guiding me after him.

I suddenly felt safe, and despite everyone staring at us, _no one was saying anything_.

"Ha, look! Jace's new one-nighter is the orphan!"

 _And I spoke too soon._

I looked up to see a guy from the football team. I think his name was Sebastian. He smirked as the hallway was filled with hoots and giggles, everyone laughing, as usual, at my expense.

Jace shot him an icy glare and his smirk immediately dropped. "All of you shut the hell up," he commanded loudly; everyone immediately obeyed. Jace had that kind of effect. He rolled his eyes, slinging an arm over my shoulders. My eyes widened but I couldn't shrug him off, not being able to breathe never mind move.

Everyone else seemed to have the same reaction, and I saw dropping jaws and wide eyes coming from every direction. Jace wasn't fazed, and he either didn't notice or didn't care. He continued to guide me towards the front entrance, humming lightly under his breath.

Before I knew it we were outside, and it might have been the fresh air that restarted my brain. "Jace, what are you doing?"

"Something I've wanted to do since I saw you when I moved here in seventh grade. Hope your not allergic to kindness. Well, I'd probably use a stronger word but, don't wanna make you run away now do I?" He turned his head to smile at me for a second and I returned the gesture in a daze.

Jace Herondale just _smiled_ at me.

He led me around the side of the building, walking towards the large oak tree near the back. When we reached it, he removed his arm, leaning back against the tree and gazing down at me with an odd expression. I never realized how tall he was.

"Clarissa Fray. How am I going to do this?" He wondered.

I blinked up at him. "I-I don't—and you—" I blew out a breath. "What are you doing?" I repeated.

He nodded. "Right. You're probably thinking I brought you out here to kill you or something. And probably wondering why I don't just do it in there, give everyone a nice show. I have a kind of... _different_ show in mind."

He reached out a hand and I flinched away, trying not to ponder on the flicker of hurt that passed his eyes. "Clary," he sighed quietly. "What have they done to you, huh?"

He was confusing me more and more, and the fact that I was refusing to meet his eyes wasn't helping. He never talked to me before, ever. So what was he doing?

"What do you mean?" I asked quietly.

"I don't hate you Clary. I don't want to hurt you. I never have and I never will. I've wanted to do this—to say all this for years but I just... I was just an idiot. Clary, please just at least look at me," he pleaded softly.

I obeyed, letting my eyes travel up to his slowly, trying not to show that I was getting shivers every time he said my name. A small smile quirked his lips. "There we go. Now I can see those beautiful eyes of yours."

I gave him a confused, questioning look and he smiled wider. "Clarissa Fray, I think you're beautiful. I think you're beautiful, and smart, and funny, and kind, and talented, and broken." His smile grew sad as he reached out a hand again, more tentative and slower than the last time. When I didn't flinch away he let out a small breath, slipping his hand through mine.

"I would tell you to please not say anything and let me get it all out first but I don't think you're going to interrupt anyway." I shook my head and he continued, "Yes, I know you're broken, or at least not okay. I know the way everyone treats you and I know that it's been happening for so long that now you think you deserve it. But you really, really don't," he informed me.

"I know you don't sleep or eat much anymore, from the bags under your eyes and the fact that I can see all the bones in your face in neck. You're stick thin, and I can feel the bones in your hand right now," he ran his fingers over my knuckles. "I'd say you're starving yourself or you actually just can't keep it down. You probably have nightmares and from all the grief and insults. But I also know that no matter how thin you are or how sick you look you're still the most beautiful girl I've ever seen and for me that will never change. What I'm saying is, Clary Fray, what I know is that I like you."

I was stunned. I stared at him wide eyed, once again finding it hard to breath. I slowly shook my head. "No you don't. None of you do. No one does. Everyone knows it, everyone's said it. I know it. Nobody likes me."

He pursed his lips, looking at me with a sad expression. Then he nodded slowly. "You know what? You're right. I lied. I don't like you either." He shrugged. "I love you."

When he was first talking, my heart was fluttering in my chest. Then it had dropped. Now, I think it was exploding.

"I— _what_?" I squawked. Realization dawned suddenly and I nodded. "I get it now. This is a prank. Was it a dare? Or just for fun, maybe you came up with it yourself? Where's the camera?"

He groaned, running his hand over his face frustratedly. "I knew this wouldn't be easy. I'm such an idiot. I should have befriended you from the start, I should've taken care of you. I should've made you _happy_."

I shook my head. "No one can do that."

His expression fell completely. "I can't be too late. I _won't_ be." He pushed off the tree to stand right in front of me, and I had to crane my neck to look up at him as his eyes burned with a new determination. "I _will_ make you happy. I _will_ take care of you. I'll give you everything that's been taken from you, everything you need, everything you deserve. I love you and I'll do whatever it takes to prove it."

I opened my mouth to protest again, but it was covered before I could. My eyes widened as I felt something press against my back while something else, much softer, pressed against my lips. Jace had turned us around so I was pressed against the tree, and he was kissing me.

His lips were soft but unyielding on mine, and I felt my eyes flutter closed as my mouth responded on its own accord. And when I didn't pull away, I felt his smile as he lifted a hand to cup my cheek, letting the other rest against my waist.

Our lips moved in sync, his molding perfectly against mine. I had never kissed anyone before, and I had no idea what it was supposed to be like, what the definition of a 'good kiss' was. But this definitely felt perfect to me. Then again, it was Jace Herondale.

 _Oh my gods. I'm kissing Jace Herondale!_

He pulled away and I forced my eyes open as I felt him rest his forehead against mine. He gently traced my cheek, a small smile playing on his lips. "You kissed me back."

The words 'or was it a bet?' rested on the tip of my tongue but I bit them back, instead nodding mutely. What if this wasn't a joke?

He narrowed his eyes. "You still don't believe me though, do you?" I stayed quiet.

What did he expect? Here he was, the hottest, most wanted and most popular guy in the school, telling me, the outcast, that he loved me. He didn't realize that, if this was a prank, it would hurt more than he thought, because I was the one that had been in love with him since he moved here in the seventh grade. He was perfect in every way, including the fact that he was the only person who had never joined the Clary hate club, or thrown a nasty look or comment my way. In fact, I realized now that over the years, every time he met my eyes, he smiled at me.

But this couldn't be real. Could it?

"Clary, I understand why you don't believe me. But I need you to try. Please. I know I've been idiot, and all this is way overdue but I'll do anything if there's even a slight chance you'll forgive me."

I gnawed at my lip, studying him closely. "This really isn't a prank?"

He shook his head. "I swear it's not." His voice was sincere, and his eyes honest. "Clary, please."

"Okay," I breathed. What have I got to lose? "But you should know if it is, it'll ruin me. It'll ruin me, because I love you. Because I've always loved you, ever since you smiled at me that first day in the seventh grade. I've lost— _everything_. My parents were the only thing I had. Now that they're gone, I'm stuck with this stupid foster family that hates me as much as everyone in this school. I have nothing. I don't sleep, I don't eat, I don't even want to breathe. I wish I had died with them—I _should_ have died with them. I have tried to follow. If this is a prank, it'll ruin me. If it's not, but still goes badly, it'll ruin me. I won't be able to handle it. I'm _broken_ , probably beyond repair. How can anyone love that?"

"I don't know how, I just know that I do. I know that I don't care if you think you're worthless, because I think you're perfect. You can't be broken beyond repair. I can't let that happen. I will do everything I can to put you back together, piece by piece. I'll make the insults stop, I'll take away all of your pain. I know there's a strong, outgoing, amazing girl in there, and I'll bring her out. I'll love you with everything I have, Clary, if you'll let me. Will you?"

I stared at him, at his beautiful golden eyes. They had darkened so much that they were almost black, and I wanted to get lost in them forever, where it was safe. I nodded slowly. "Okay," I whispered.

He blinked. "Okay?"

I nodded again, stronger this time. "Okay. I'll let you."

He looked at me in confusion before his eyes widened and I was crushed to his chest. He caged me in his arms protectively, holding me tight. My body was stiff and I had to force my arms around him, moving almost robotically; I wasn't used to much affection.

He laughed quietly, lightly rubbing my back. "It's just a hug Clare. Relax."

I tried to obey, leaning into him and resting my head on his chest. I rose an eyebrow, even though he couldn't see me. "Clare?" I repeated questioningly.

He nodded, his chin ruffling my hair. "Yes Clare. If you don't want me to use it, I won't. I just thought—"

"It's fine," I cut him off. "I like it."

I heard the smile in his voice. "Good," he gave me a squeeze.

We stood in silence for a while as I reveled in the feel of his arms protectively around me, his body pressed to mine. How did this happen? How did we go from strangers to him being my first kiss, telling each other 'I love you' and standing in such a long, intimate hug?

I suddenly realized we weren't strangers. I had been in love with him for _years_. I had learned all his little quirks, had memorized all his features, figured out his likes and dislikes. I had just always assumed one of his dislikes was _me_. I had never been more happy that I was wrong.

He seemed to know me, too. Maybe he had paid attention when I hadn't noticed.

"Clary?" Jace broke the silence. I hummed in question. "Was that your first kiss?"

I froze, nodding slowly. "Why? Was it bad? I'm sorry, I—"

"Shut up Clare," he cut me off, laughing. "It was perfect." He kissed the crown of my head. "So uh, if that was your first kiss, you haven't had any, other, firsts?"

I blinked, pulling back to stare up at him. "Jace, why?"

He laughed at my embarrassed expression, pulling me back to his chest. "I meant first date," he lied. "I was your first kiss, and I want to be your first everything else too. And after that, I wanna be your last."

I shook my head. "You're crazy, y'know that?"

He nodded, pulling back to wink at me. "That I am. Especially in bed. You wanna come to Crazytown Clare?" He wiggled his eyebrows.

I shook my head, laughing and smacking his chest. "You're disgusting too."

He shrugged. "But you love me," he smirked.

I nodded, blushing. "I know."

His smirk morphed into a soft smile. "Don't be embarrassed," he stroked my cheek reassuringly. "I love you too." He pulled me back to him, tangling his hand in my hair and letting his other trace circles on my back. I smiled.

"I know."


End file.
